


Double or Nothing

by coldfiredragon



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Hair Removal, Butt Plugs, Canon Bisexual Character, Canon Relationships, Cock Rings, Collars, Consensual Kink, Consensual Possession, Dom/sub Play, Dom/sub Undertones, Eliot still isn't over Quentin, F/F, Fingerfucking, Grooming, Hand Feeding, Hand Jobs, Implied Future Mpreg, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Piercings, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Sex Magic, Sex Toys, The Lorians are sneaky bastards, Voyeurism, magic dildos, threat of restraint, unrequited male/female relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-10 02:45:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17417555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldfiredragon/pseuds/coldfiredragon
Summary: The Lorian invasion had clearly been the works for some time, because it happened without a hitch - alternatively how Eliot found himself engaged and married to King Idri of Loria.Chapter 5:  Idri ruminates on his relationship with his new spouse and asks a piercing question that might enhance their experiences together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will contain a lot of kinks, I'll try to update them as the story updates and they become necessary. If I miss one that you think should be included tell me, I'll add it just to be safe.

That they had spies within Whitespire, and that the Lorians had been waiting to put a plan into effect was evident by how quickly all of it had unfolded. Not even three days after he'd claimed the throne and his friends had gone back to Earth Prince Ess, and his envoys had arrived. That same night Eliot had awoken to find his guards incapacitated, a man on top of him, and a knife at his throat as he'd been forced out of bed. There were actions he could have taken, he definitely should have done something, but he'd let them lead him down to the gardens to watch as a portal was opened, and a company of about eighty Lorians poured through. 

Watching them be dispatched with silent commands had made Eliot a little envious. He hadn't been king long enough even to figure out how big of an army he had at his disposal, much less develop a choreographed relationship with any of his troops. 

“King Eliot.” Standing in nothing but his boxers, without his crown, Eliot had never felt less like a king, and the man's tone had been one that would have driven him to his knees if they were meeting in any other scenario. It had made him shiver, and Eliot had silently insisted that it had only happened because it had been cold and not because the man had been subtly domming him.

“Actually it's High King Eliot.” The weapon at his back had been jabbed at him, not hard enough to pierce, but enough to make him stand straighter as he tried to inch away. He'd swallowed down his nerves as best he could. “You seem to know me, but I'm still waiting for my introduction to you.” In the darkness, Eliot hadn't been sure, but he thought he remembered the older man smiling. 

“Don't disrespect my father, you worm!” Prince Ess' rebuke had been harsh enough to make Eliot cringe in anticipation of a strike. 

“ESS! Enough. You will treat High King Eliot with the respect he's due.” It had taken all of Eliot's self-control to reign in his snark. Getting escorted at swordpoint to the courtyard, in his underwear, was the respect he was due? “I am King Idri of Loria, Your Grace.” Idri had given him a half-bow, 

“A pleasure, Your Grace.” Eliot had parroted back the title and the bow, then cocked his chin towards the doors that lead inside. “Shall we take this inside?” The Lorians had been dressed for the cold; he hadn't been. 

“How hospitable of you to welcome us; you may lead the way.” The older man had been far too amused as Eliot had huffed, then spun and escorted what remained of the company into the castle. At the intervals were he usually would have found Fillorians he'd found pairs of men bearing Lorian colors and crests. The occasional smears of blood had acted as indicators that his people had at least put up a fight. What had happened to them was anyone's guess. 

“Am I going to have to commission a whole new castle guard?” He'd snarked as Idri's men had railroaded him towards the throne room. 

“My goal is not to destabilize Fillory by crippling Whitespire, Your Majesty. Loria benefits far more from peace than it would from prolonged conflict.” 

“When your son arrived this morning he proposed a marriage between himself and High Queen Margo. She's still on Earth, so the answer hasn't changed.” 

“A marriage is the best option.” The cryptic response had set Eliot's teeth. Promising Margo's hand without her permission had been absolutely out of the question. 

“Is consent not a thing to you people?” He'd growled as four of the Lorians had darted past him to throw open the throne room door. The first pair had held the doors while the second pair swept the entrance to make sure an ambush hadn't awaited them. Idri had stepped almost up against him as the company crowded close. 

“I would never force something on someone who isn't even present to hear my terms. If High Queen Margo is unavailable, there are other options.” He'd nudged Eliot forward before Eliot could puzzle out what he'd meant. 

“Eliot!” Fen's cry as he was escorted inside had made something nervous flutter in his chest. These people had expected him to protect them, and he'd been too outnumbered from the beginning even to try a spell. The girl's arms had circled him after she had run to him as Eliot had realized that the Lorians had gathered his entire court. Tick had sported an ugly bruise, Abigail had wrapped herself around Rafe's shoulder and neck. 

“Did they you hurt?” He'd asked Fen. Relief had flooded him when she shook her head; there probably would never be romantic love between them, but at the very least he'd agreed to protect her. It hadn't come as much of a surprise how easily he'd failed. Fen had seemed intent to cling to him even as he'd slowly tried to detangle himself from her. Finally, he'd given up and settled her under his arm as he'd turned both of them, so they had faced the elder of the Lorian statesmen. Despite his best efforts not to, Eliot had swooned a little over the older man. He'd been handsome in a way that had appealed to him. It had taken Eliot a moment more than he would have liked to find his tongue again. “So what's the deal? Are you going to have your men torture my wife and my council until I agree to whatever laundry list of demands you have?” 

“I sincerely hope we can negotiate without bloodshed.”

“Fillory has nothing to offer Loria!” Fen had snapped. Before she could say anything more, Eliot had clamped his hand over her mouth. 

“You're not making this easier.” He'd murmured against her hair. The last thing he'd needed was for it to appear that his peasant wife was the one calling the shots. 

“That's right, remind your woman of her place.” Eliot had bristled at Ess' blatant misogyny and decided at that moment that there was no way he was getting his hands on Margo. 

“She's hardly my woman, but she has my ear, and her opinion carries weight.” He'd told Ess as Fen had deflated in his hold. Eliot had meant the remarks as a compliment, but she'd clearly seen them as a jab at the romance they hadn't yet managed to kindle. He dropped his hand away from her mouth. “However.” He'd directed his attention back to Idri and made his voice as honey-sweet as he could make it. “I would very much like to hear what suggestions you have in mind.” The man had grinned at him, and a deep swell of regret had blossomed in Eliot's belly that his marriage contract kept him from bargaining with his body. He would have loved to coax Idri to his suite to negotiate in private. 

“I admire your directness, Eliot.” The man's smile had been warm, it had coaxed him to flirt, and Eliot had smiled back at him. 

“I'm still waiting to hear your first proposal.” Eliot had reminded him; his voice had been just shy of teasing. Idri's smile had widened, he'd relaxed a little, then he'd taken a step closer to them and reached to brush a lock of hair behind Eliot's ear. His hand had traveled down Eliot's cheek until his fingers had hooked under Eliot's chin. The urge to melt into the most affection he'd received from a man since his marriage had been almost overwhelming.

“I propose that you and I wed, as soon as the ceremony can be arranged.” Idri had pulled his hand away, and Eliot had almost toppled in shock. 

“Absolutely not. My husband is not marrying you.” Fen's voice had been steel. She'd turned to stone under his arm. Eliot's mind had reeled as he'd tried to parse out the difference between 'can't' and 'not'. 

“Is that even an option?” The need, the hope, that had roared to life inside him was too much to process. He'd assumed that the binding nature of a Fillorian marriage had confined him to a single partner. 

“Unless you've already taken a husband without my knowledge.”

“I wasn't aware that I was allowed a husband.” The words had come out a little choked, and a lot accusatory. Fen had flinched, then ducked her head and cast her gaze at the floor. “Fen?” 

“You're allowed one of each.” She had stepped out of his hold and hugged herself. 

“What the fuck?” Eliot should have known better than to let so much of his frustration show at such a delicate time but he'd been exhausted after being dragged from bed, and the idea that something so important had been hidden from him had hurt. He knew Margo had told Fen his preference for a male partner, and she'd kept the secret from both of them. His gaze had swept the rest of his advisers to find that none of them would meet his eyes. 

“I would have told you, eventually.” Fen hadn't sounded nearly as remorseful as she'd pretended to be. When he'd glanced at Idri again the older man had looked... almost sympathetic. 

“I'm sure you would have.” He'd muttered. His gaze had tracked from his counsel and back to their Lorian occupiers. “I have conditions.” His heart had raced in his chest as he'd waited for Idri to nod. “My counsel remains intact, what remains of the guard is restored to their posts, and your little 'occupation force' does not expand into the city.” 

“You may keep whatever counsel you choose as long as one Lorian adviser attends each meeting, a goodwill embassy will be established within the city at a central location of your choice, and my guards will intermix with yours within the palace until after our wedding has been consummated.”

“How about open borders to allow Fillorian trade in Lorian territory?”

“Only as long as Lorian traders are given the same liberty.”

“Then I agree to your proposal.” There had to be a million things he'd missed, thousands of tiny details he didn't even know to suggest. His choice would probably ruin everything and get him killed, but what did he have to lose? He was trapped in Fillory for the rest of his life, Quentin only seemed interested in salvaging his relationship with Alice, and his marriage to Fen had been nothing but awkwardness and pain. 

“Eliot please, don't do this?” 

“Don't do what? Exactly? Try and end a conflict with the largest of our neighbors? I can't see how Fillory fails to benefit. Tick? Does Fillory benefit from a peaceful relationship with Loria?”

“Yes, your highness.” 

“Rafe?” 

“It could be beneficial.” 

“Abigail?” The sloth had said something Eliot hadn't understood.

“Abigail agrees.” Rafe had paraphrased. Fen had only looked more dejected.

“As you wish, Your Highness.” She had murmured. If the Lorians hadn't been blocking them in she probably would have fled the throne room. Eliot had felt terrible for her, that she'd gotten stuck with him, that he'd ruined her life, that he wasn't emotionally equipped to satisfy her as she deserved, that he didn't love her the way she wanted, that he was excited about the possibility that lay ahead with Idri... Too many emotions had been running amok in his head. 

“Can we hash our more of the details in the morning?” He'd asked. Idri had stepped close to him again, and the man's calloused knuckles had dragged down his cheek. 

“The guard situation must be handled tonight; then some rest would probably do us all some good.” Eliot had shivered under the touch and leaned into it. The last male partners he'd shared himself with had been Mike and Quentin, and neither one had given him anything emotionally healthy in return. He and Quentin had salvaged their friendship, but that hadn't cured the hollow ache in his chest that Quentin's frantic rejection had created. 

Once a plan had been put in place, and his agreement assured, Idri and Idri's guards had escorted him to the dungeons. To his relief, none of his men were actually dead, though several had suffered head injuries, that they weren't happy was an understatement. A coup had flown under their radar completely unnoticed – one that had turned the castle on its head in the process. When Eliot had finally gotten to bed, it had been more towards morning, and Idri had joined him. It shouldn't have been so easy to fall asleep in the older man's embrace, but the masculine scents of sweat and subtle cologne had lured him into the most relaxed sleep he'd gotten since arriving in Fillory.


	2. Just Because We Can't Touch, Doesn't Mean We Can't Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Eliot struggles to plan the wedding in a handful of days Idri surprises him with his first courting gift - a sex toy to liven things up in the bedroom as they learn what each other like. They might not be able to touch, but there are other ways to play!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is going to be an exercise in kink! Enjoy!
> 
> I need to give a special thanks to Oneeyeddestroyer and Ruby from the 39 Graves discourse chat for helping me conceive the toy for this chapter! Figuring it out really helped me find my direction!

When Idri had proposed that the two of them marry as soon as it could be arranged Eliot had assumed that a wedding of such importance would take several months to prepare. He'd been shocked when Idri had told him over breakfast the next morning that he anticipated everything could be prepared within days. The news had left him stunned; Fen had shoved her chair back from the table with such force that the screech of the wooden legs sliding against the stone had been jarring. She hadn't said to a word to either of them as she'd stormed away. She'd kept a distance from him since. 

Her avoidance had been a relief at first, as it had left him free to bend to the whim of the endless list of preparations that had been abruptly dropped in his lap. There had been a tailor to meet with, a dinner and appetizers to plan, a wedding arch to design, an officiate to choose, and Idri hadn't been a lick of help. The man he was set to marry didn't seem to care about the details, just the speed with which it was all arranged. Eliot got it; he did, the tension within the castle was palpable. The sooner it was over, the better for everyone, but by the end of the first day, as he tried to hold still so his tailor could finish the day's second fitting, he was exhausted. 

“Can we wrap this up?” He murmured as his arm was maneuvered to the full extent of its range to make sure that the shoulder didn't bunch incorrectly. 

“I've almost finished, now hold still, your majesty.” His title was tacked on as almost an after-thought and Eliot felt a certain fondness for her. Vera was a stern little woman who's graying hair was pulled back in a loose bun; the small cushion secured to her wrist brimmed with silver pins. Watching her work abruptly reminded Eliot of his mother, and the hundred or so times he or one of his brothers had found themselves in almost exactly this position as she'd altered a hand-me-down or thrift store garment. The unexpected memory of his childhood only served to bitterly reinforce the truth that he was never going home again, that any chance he'd had of ever returning to Earth was slipping through his fingers as he tied himself more thoroughly to Fillory. The speed with which his second set of nuptials approached meant that his friends probably wouldn't even have a chance to return before it happened. He was going to be tackling this solo. It was terrifying. “I have enough for tonight, relax your shoulders and help me take it all off.” Eliot heaved a relieved sigh as she helped him remove the half-finished clothes without displacing the pins that marked each tuck and fold.  


“Thank you; I'm sure it will look splendid once you've finished.” His fingers traced along the edge of the silk as the shirt was pulled over his head. Together they had settled on fabrics that would accent his crown. After he'd shimmied free of the pants, and wrapped himself in a flowing silk dressing gown, Eliot helped Vera gather her supplies. If he liked her final product, he'd have to ask her back when he commissioned a complete wardrobe. 

Once she'd taken her leave, and he had his suite to himself he sank with his back to the door. Resignation made his shoulders sag. He'd been too busy to feel lonely since Margo and Quentin had left, but the feelings crushed in on him now. The idea that they might never come back felt like a very real possibility. With a miserable sniff, he pulled his flask to his fingers, but the lurch of his stomach after a mouth full or so of whiskey reminded him that he'd barely eaten. A tray of canapes and hors-d'oeuvres for him to sample had been brought by the kitchen staff near the middle of his fitting, but that had been well over an hour before. With a groan, he levered himself up, found the covered tray, and carried it into the bedroom. A wave of his fingers light the lamps, and he slid down the against the bed. While nothing had spoiled, what should have been cool and what should have been warm had both evened to room temperature. He nibbled at all of it regardless.

He was halfway through the tray, and well into his personal pity party when he heard the knock on the main chamber door. Eliot didn't bother to move. He'd sacrificed privacy when he agreed to become a king, if they needed him enough they would come in regardless. The whiskey was better with food, and he sipped at it. Just as he'd expected the bedroom door swung open without invitation. Idri had disappeared to check on his men during the middle of the day and hadn't returned. Now he carried a slim box in one hand. To see him again, when he was more drunk than sober had Eliot curling in on himself.

“Eliot? Are you alright?” 

“No.” His voice was hoarse; there was no point in lying. “Not that you care.” He muttered. His fingers found the edges of the gown to pull it until it covered him better. Idri only cared about the crown on his head, the status it let him carry, and the influence that he would gain from being in a position to manipulate him. It was the same thing Fen and her father had wanted. Right now Eliot felt more like a pawn than a king. 

“Try me. Perhaps I care more than you think.” Idri crossed the room to sit beside him. Eliot had to force himself to sit still, to neither lean into him or inch away. “You're putting too much effort into this ceremony. Give your people a simple direction and trust them to reach a satisfactory conclusion.” The words were right, but they struck at the heart of Eliot's current mental anguish, that no one cared what he wanted. 

“I knew you wouldn't understand.” The swallow of whiskey burned down his throat. 

“Eliot...” 

“This is all I get, Idri! I don't know you, I barely know Fen, and the only family I have might not return from Earth for months.”

“You don't love your wife?” The question was soft in a way that made Eliot's vision swim. He wiped his hand across his eyes, then reached for another canape. 

“I've known my wife for a week.” The bite stopped him from saying anything more until he'd washed it down with whiskey. “And I'm gay; it's been a miserable arrangement.” 

“So you will prefer my company to hers?” A big hand settled on his shoulder; the grip was firm with just enough pressure to leave unspoken that Idri wanted him to move closer. The man's body was warm through the thin layer of silk. 

“Yeah.” A flush of guilt burned in Eliot's belly. Saying yes to Fen's father had been a mistake from the instant he'd agreed. The knife had been useless in every way but in how Julia had used it to back-stab all of them. “I agreed to take her hand because I was promised a knife I thought would help save my friends, but her father only told me after I'd married her that I had to be a master magician to use it.”

“So you were forced into the arrangement?”

“It's not all that different from how I've been forced into one with you.” It was perhaps a step too far, but Eliot was a little too drunk to care.” 

“The option remains that High Queen Margo might agree to marry Ess.”

“No. I won't bind Margo here the same way I am. I never get to go home, Idri. I won't force that on my best friend.” Eliot flexed his wrist back and forth between the two of them. “I want this; I want a relationship with you. I'm... excited, but I'm nervous too. I don't know you, I don't know how you'll treat me.” 

“I will treat you as you would like to be treated.” Idri leaned closer to him. “From the way you've responded to me, I think I already know how that might go.” The man's breath was warm against his ear; his tone was a rich purr, and Idri's fingers brushed the robe open to bare his shoulder. Eliot really wished the man could kiss him. He ducked his head almost demurely, which earned a laugh from Idri. 

“We can't actually do anything.” Eliot whispered with regret. 

“No, but I can tell you what I like, and how once you've pleased me I will make sure you get what you enjoy.” Idri's fingers traced along his collarbone to push the robe down his other shoulder. Eliot whined at the contact. He wanted more than the gentle brush of fingers. He wanted Idri's hands all over him. “You're so impatient.” 

“I haven't been laid since I got married, the sexual frustration is killing me.” Idri's fingers brushed the loose curls back from his temple then lightly traced down his face towards his ear. Eliot gulped and bared his neck with a groan. 

“Then my first courting gift seems most aptly timed.” The box Idri had brought with him was offered to him, and Eliot reached to take it. The wrapping was simple, an inornate box with ordinary brown string. Eliot would have been unimpressed, perhaps even offended by the lack of pomp if they were on Earth, but he recognized the practicality as part of Loria's charm. Plus Idri was the one forcing the wedding, that their short courtship would earn him presents at all was a pleasant surprise. Eliot rested his gift in his lap and pulled at the string bow with both hands. The ends pulled quickly, and he lay the lid aside to shift through the papers. His fingers found something glass. The ornateness of the object he lifted out made up for the humble packaging. 

“Fillory has sex toys?” He breathed in shock, a spring of excitement was rapidly winding itself somewhere inside of him. His gift was a cross between a dildo and a plug. The top end resembled the head of a cock, but it had been crafted and stylized to have the features of a dragon's head. Ridges and bumps lined the sides in an artful mimic of dragon scales. The end tapered into a narrowed neck that could trap the toy inside him. Below the surface, warm reds and oranges flickered like a flame. The toy gave off the faintest glow and was pleasantly warm to the touch. “Idri.” Eliot breathed, it was beautiful. 

“Put it inside you.” The firm demand, coupled with Idri's intense gaze as the man stared at him left little room for argument. Idri's hand dipped into the box and shifted around until it came back out with a jar. The liquid inside was clear and thicker than water. It coated the sides of the glass as it sloshed inside. Eliot pinned the narrow end of the plug between his fingers and ran his hand up and down the toy as he imagined how it would feel inside of him. 

“Now?” 

“Right now. I want to watch and imagine it's my cock you're writhing on.” Eliot gasped and nodded, his legs trembled as he scrambled to his feet. The toy and lube got laid on the side table as he pulled down the bed covers. 

“Lay on your back.” Idri commanded, Eliot did as he was told, for a moment, before abruptly sitting up again. “Eliot...” The low rumble of his name told him disobedience wasn't appreciated. 

“Just wait." Eliot made his voice both a sugar sweet reassurance and an apology. "I only want to guarantee we aren't interrupted.” His hands bent through a series of poppers as he cast charms. Behind them, the bedroom door shut with a click as he added magical reinforcements to the locks. The walls shimmered as he crafted a sound barrier. Idri's eyes were fixated on his hands, and he was smiling by the time Eliot had finished. “Are you imagining my hands around your cock?” Eliot purred. 

“I imagine those talented hands many places. Now do as you were told.” Eliot swallowed and flopped back against the pillows. Idri hovered over him, then the man's hands found the ties of the dressing gown; when he pulled at them, the robe fell open. Eliot lifted his hips as he underwear got dragged down his thighs; he let his legs lay open as Idri's gaze swept over him. “You are cut.” Idri seemed surprised, and Eliot's cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“It was done when I was an infant.” Eliot tilted his head to the side, suddenly nervous that Idri might dismiss him over something out of his control.

“Then it is no fault of your own. You are more beautiful than I had imagined.” Eliot grinned at the mix of relief and praise as he propped himself up on his elbows. “Touch yourself, make yourself ready for my gift.” Idri seated himself on the edge of the bed and dropped his hands to undo the catches of his pants. Eliot dragged his fingers down his belly then wrapped his hand around his half-hard cock and started to stroke

“How fast would you like me ready? I can take the time to prepare myself properly, or use a spell.”

“I want my gift inside of you, use your spell, there will be time enough for slow explorations when you are _mine_.” The way Idri pronounced the word made Eliot feel like he was already owned. He let go of himself, then started to cast. His hips jerked as his entrance was magically stretched and slicked, fast and dirty wasn't how he preferred to do things, but the spell worked in a pinch, especially in situations that were semi-public and he'd needed to be quick. Beside him, Idri had picked up the toy and was coating it was a thick layer of lube. Eliot groaned and rolled his hips against the mattress as the spell held him open. When the toy was handed to him, Eliot planted his feet and arched his pelvis as he used his hands and telekinesis to slide the dragon-shaped head inside of his body. “All the way to the neck.” Eliot gasped as he pushed it deeper; it girth was sizable, but not to the point that it was uncomfortable. He could feel each ridge and bump as the glass rubbed inside of him. 

“Oh god!”

“All the way to the neck, Eliot.” The low order urged him to push the last of the toy inside of himself; his anus closed around the narrowed neck so he couldn't push it out.

“Now what?” The warm glass made him feel full, and he wiggled against the sheets as he tried to put as little pressure on the tail of the plug as possible. Idri had stood to shed his top, and he had pushed his pants to mid-thigh. His cock stood against his belly as he moved onto the bed to kneel between Eliot's splayed legs. One hand planted itself alongside Eliot's stomach as he leaned over him. 

“I do this.” The older man's gaze flashed up, and they held eye contact for a moment before Idri ducked his head again. The puffs of warm air as Idri breathed made goose flesh rise along Eliot's arms. For a second Eliot thought the man might kiss his stomach, instead he whispered something Eliot didn't hear against the skin. Whatever the words were they brought the toy to life. There was a warm pulse, then the toy moved. Eliot rolled his hips as the bumped scales shifted and dragged. The thing curled and contracted like a living creature. Eliot keened as the head brushed his prostate. One hand sifted into the sheets as the other dropped to stroke himself again. 

A quick flick of his eyes showed that while Idri was still using one hand to lever himself over him, the other was slowly sliding up and down his cock. The toy contracted again, and Eliot's feet slipped against the sheets as he jerked and rode it. The tail grazed the mattress, and his whole body tensed as the pressure triggered a reaction along the length of the dildo. Sweat rose along his skin as pre-cum dribbled from his tip. Inside of him something flicked against his prostate; it was so unexpected and quick that Eliot had to squeeze to stop the orgasm. When it didn't happen again, he resumed the movement of his hand.

“Oh god, Idri! Where did you find this thing?” His fiance didn't bother with an answer, but the man did nuzzle his cheek against the inside of his knee. The rough scrape of barely-there stubble made Eliot mewl in pleasure. The thing contracted and stretched, and Eliot's chest heaved as he tried to suck in enough air to keep breathing, to keep moving. He'd never been wrecked quite like this before, while his lover did nothing but watch and pleasure himself. Voyeurism might be his new kink. 

The flick happened again but lasted, like something was licking at his prostate. He screwed his eyes shut and threw his head back as his back arched. Did the thing have a fucking tongue? 

“Idri! Idri, please? Let me; I need, oh god... Idri...” He hadn't been told he needed permission to come, but he wanted it. They were going to be bound together for the rest of their lives, and Eliot desperately wanted to please him. He couldn't be trapped in another marriage like the one he shared with Fen, unhappy and unfulfilling. “Idri!” The man's name was a desperate keen, a plea, a prayer. His feet scrabbled uselessly for purchase against the sheets and the silk dressing gown. Suddenly his ankles were grabbed and held. Eliot jerked his hips up and down as the toy continued to shift and wiggle.  


“Shh, my darling. I'm right here. You are so beautiful. I'll treasure you, give you everything you need, everything you want. Let go.” The thing's tongue started licking at him again, and Eliot lost it. He came with a wail. Come spurted across his belly is thick ropes, when he'd finished, he rolled onto his side as he panted in exhaustion. The toy had gone still, but it still plugged and filled him. The end had rounded to a nub that sat evenly between his cheeks. Idri gave him a minute to get his bearings, then grabbed his knee and rolled him onto his back. Eliot barely had the energy to lift his head to watch as Idri finished. He more felt than saw it when Idri's release pooled across his stomach. The robe got used to wipe him clean. Eliot rolled onto his side again when Idri moved to lay beside him “You're _mine_ , Eliot. We will figure out ways to satisfy the woman you've married, but don't think for a second that you belong to her.” A big hand cupped Eliot's face, then slid to grip the back of his neck. Eliot squeezed his eyes closed and nodded. He was relieved if he was honest, that he'd pleased, that Idri wanted him, that the man's interest seemed genuine.

“Okay.” He whispered. 

“Now go to sleep, we'll deal with the last plans for the ceremony in the morning.” 

“Thank you, Idri.” Eliot shifted a little and whined as the toy continued to fill him. It seemed to sense his discomfort and shrank. “Idri?” The man hummed, then realized what Eliot wanted. 

“You may take it out.” Eliot sighed in relief. It took a moment to wiggle the dildo free, a wave of his hands later and the lights lowered so they could sleep. On the nightstand, his gift returned to its original size and emitted a warm glow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated! I usually don't get this explicit when I write, so constructive criticism is appreciated. Tell me how I can write it better.
> 
> If there's a kink you want to see in a later chapter let me know! I have their wedding night planned, but I'm open to some suggestions for later in the fic!


	3. Where I go, You Will Follow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding happens, and Eliot finds out only after that Idri has made arrangements to take him to Loria for their consummation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter to set up the next one! Enjoy!

Once Eliot started following Idri's advice about the wedding the planning began to move smoothly. It was decided that Tick would officiate and that the decorations of the throne room would accent in colors matching his crown. His people seemed confident, they didn't track him down to ask about every detail. The only things Eliot took active participation in were the remainder of his fittings and some of the food preparations. They found out quickly that he was actually an asset in the kitchen; Eliot suspected that they might even be taking the opportunity to learn a thing or two from him. 

The gifts from Idri continued. One was a simple case of a bittersweet Lorian spirit; the next had been a jacket lined with plush fur and a pair of perfectly fitted leather boots. The evening before the wedding Idri had walked with him to the stable and Eliot had been presented with a stunning white horse that had been chosen to accommodate his height. The creature had been outfitted in an intricately worked saddle decorated with Fillorian crests and seals. All of it left Eliot feeling over the moon, that they set aside time in the evening to talk and know one another made him feel more comfortable about the man he was set to marry. 

The only sticking point was Fen, who avoided both of them. Eliot had finally cornered her in one of the towers the evening before the wedding. She'd confessed that she had always known that he would take a second partner but how quickly it had happened rattled her, his eagerness bothered her, that Idri was Lorian flew in the face of everything she believed was right for Fillory. She assured him that she had accepted the inevitability of the situation and that she would attend the ceremony. Eliot had done his best to convince her that he and Idri wouldn't leave her out. It had felt like a brittle compromise.  


The morning of the ceremony had been a whirlwind that Eliot barely remembered. He'd been shuffled from one thing to the next so quickly that he'd hardly had time to take it in. The loneliness had cornered in on him again and as the castle had filled with guards and unfamiliar guests it had started to feel claustrophobic. The faint tendril of hope that Margo and Quentin would come back faded to nothing. As the ceremony had drawn closer, Eliot had found himself a bundle of nerves. He'd been forced to down a healthy portion of whiskey and the last Xanax that was tucked away in the baggie of pills he'd grabbed from his desk drawer before he and his friends had left Earth. 

He was still nervous when the wedding started and Tick had droned on through a combination of Fillorian and Lorian vows. Idri's hand had been bound to his and that had grounded him. As soon as Tick had pronounced them husband and husband, Idri produced a ring, something Eliot hadn't anticipated. It had been slid on his finger, a perfect fit, and the binding had fallen free. He and Idri had stepped into one another and kissed. That they had gotten through the day's events without something going wrong floored him. Eliot had expected an interruption, nothing in his life that he wanted ever went smoothly. He chalked the lack of surprises up to Idri's emphasis on speed, that combined with the heavy presence of a mixed guard, had probably made an attack challenging to plan. 

Courtesy, and the guests who insisted on wishing them well had forced them to mingle rather than immediately return to his suite. Wait staff had carried trays of light snacks through the crowd as Eliot had hung on Idri's arm and shared small kisses. Both Tick and Idri had briefed him with talking points before the party, and he'd done his best to stick to them. There was more interest in a Lorian peace than he'd anticipated, at least that was the impression Eliot had received from the combination of traders and guild-masters who spoke to him.  


When everyone was seated for dinner, he picked at his meal. By the time people abandoned their plates to dance or talk he was ready to climb the walls if it meant he'd escape. Idri seemed to sense his frustration. The two of them danced because it was expected, then idly chatted. As they moved through the crowd, Eliot realized they were working their way across the room in a deliberate direction. Once they reached the closest hallways a set of Idri's guards reached them; they spoke just loudly enough for the nearest guests to hear that Idri was needed in private. His new husband's hand circled his wrist and pulled in a silent indication that they were using the ruse to slip away.

“You did well.” Idri purred as his guards dropped away to prevent them from being followed. 

“I know my way around a party.” Brakebills had served him well in that regard. A brief bout of melancholy that he wouldn't get to finish formed a knot in his throat. They turned a corner, and Eliot abruptly found himself against the wall. Idri's hand gripped the back of his neck, then his husband's mouth was on his. Idri's tongue pushed insistently past his teeth; it wasn't the eager conservative kiss they had shared in front of their people. It was an unverbal reminder that he was Idri's as thoroughly as he would ever be able to belong to anyone. The ring on his finger felt like a silent sign of ownership. “Are you going to take me here in the hall?” He purred. 

“I have something else in mind.” 

“Oh good, I was hoping there would at least be a bed involved.” 

“Shall we?” Idri gestured down the hall. “You may lead.” As they walked Eliot tried to keep his gait even and his eagerness at a minimum. It didn't help that Idri was remaining a deliberate pace or so behind him and was probably using the distance to stare at his ass. Idri knew how much he wanted this. Eliot wanted to have his husband's hands on him; he wanted to be touched, to be loved, and be fucked into the soft feather mattress of their bed. 

Eliot waved his hands as they neared his room, throwing the doors open with a layer of added flair that the telekinesis he'd used didn't require. The theatrics earned an appreciative chuckle, and Eliot spun to face his new partner as he walked backward toward the end of the hall. The last few steps into the suite were accented by a teasing flex of his index finger as he beckoned Idri after him. The semi-darkness of the suite closed around them. With a pair of Idri's long paces, the man was against him, and his arms were around him. The intensity of the kiss made Eliot's head spin. It wasn't until the doors closed that Eliot realized there were other people in the room.  
“Idri?” Eliot's gaze swept around the living area of his suite. Three men and two women had awaited them. 

“Shush my darling. Nothing is wrong.” 

“I didn't realize our consummation would have an audience.” Idri's laugh was a booming baritone that did little to make him relax. Eliot took a futile sideways step in an attempt to get back to the door; his heart pounded in his chest.

“Our consummation will be for us alone. Eliot, my treasure, don't you trust me?” Eliot swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I want to. Why are they in here, Idri? I want answers now!” 

“These are the four I've chosen to by your attendants.” Idri nodded to the two young men, teenagers really, who had moved to the close the double doors. “Apus and Till,” The boys clasped their hands in front of themselves and gave Eliot a half bow. “The ladies are Brisca and Portia,”

“Your majesty.” The girls both courtesied low. 

“Charmed,” Eliot nodded to both pairs. “I'm not sure why it's imperative I meet them now.” 

“As I've said, they will be your attendants. They will be accompanying us to my castle in the Cock Barrens of Loria.” Idri gestured towards the third man who stood farther back from the rest of the group. Eliot recognized him as the one who had opened the portal to allow Idri and his men through to the Whitespire courtyard. “You already met my mage, Oban.” The realization that there was another magician in the room made Eliot's shoulders feel heavy. He might have been able to escape Idri and the attendants, but the combination narrowed his odds considerably. 

“I wasn't aware we were leaving Whitespire.” Eliot shifted uneasily in place; the indication seemed to be that they were leaving within moments. 

“You have my word. I will not hurt you, Eliot. You've opened your home to me, allow me the same courtesy of opening mine to you. Wouldn't you like to get away from the prying eyes of your wife and court for a handful of days?” A big hand cupped his face; Eliot arched into it and made a miserable noise of regret. 

“I can't just disappear, Idri. As much as I would love it.” It was doubtful, but his friends could be back any day, and if he left without warning his retainers would probably believe he'd been kidnapped. Their wedding had already stressed his relationship with Fen, and in his absence, he feared the tension with the guards might boil over. 

“I've already forewarned Tick of what I assure you now will be a short absence.” For a brief moment, Eliot wondered if Tick was part of the reason the Lorians had gained such easy access to the castle. Eliot turned his cheek into Idri's hand to brush his lips against the man's palm. 

“If you told Tick, why didn't you tell me?” 

“Would the added stress have helped? There were moments you seemed overwhelmed already.” The hand that cupped his face moved to tug through his hair; Idri shifted against him. The arm around his waist tightened and a broad thigh pressed between Eliot's legs. “There are so many things I want to do to you, my treasure. Let me take you somewhere that we won't need your magic to guarantee our privacy.”

“How many days?”

“Three nights. I wanted to surprise you, Eliot, by incorporating your Earth's tradition of 'honey-moon.' Will you deny me?” There was a faint edge to Idri's voice, Eliot was pretty sure he didn't have a choice but that Idri wanted his consent regardless. The idea that Idri had thought to include an Earth tradition really was flattering, and the thoughts of what they might do in a situation entirely within Idri's control made Eliot's heart race with something other than fear. 

“Three nights.” 

“Excellent.” A broad smile curved across Idri's face. Eliot found his mouth claimed in another kiss as thorough as the one they had shared in the hall. “Oban, when you are ready.” 

“Your majesty.” The mage gave Idri a sharp bow then turned to cast. 

“Don't I need to pack a bag, Idri?” 

“Brisca had prepared it for you.” As the portal opened Eliot saw that one of the girls had indeed prepared a bag. Idri's smile curved into a smirk as his eyes swept down Eliot's body. “Though I must admit my flower, you'll be lucky if I let you wear clothes at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry guys! I couldn't resist ending on that line. It was too good to pass up.


	4. At a Castle in the Cock Barrens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Idri takes Eliot to Loria, where a final gift awaits, but Eliot doesn't handle the isolation as well as Idri anticipates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New tags have been added. This is a NSFW chapter. 
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> Enjoy!

Idri's castle was chillier than Whitespire, but it bustled with familiar energy. Eliot knew after only a few minutes that he visited the beating heart of the Lorian empire. His new attendants flanked him in an even square as Idri lead the way towards his rooms. The girls took the front corners while the boys took the back. No one spoke to any of them, and Eliot didn't see enough of the palace to feel comfortable making an attempt to navigate it alone. The chill seemed to seep into him as they walked through high ceilinged halls. Intricate tapestries had been hung to cover full sections of wall and trap what warmth could be saved. Worn rugs lined the most traveled hallways. Their condition improved and they thickened as the entourage left the common areas for a wing reserved for the royal family. Idri led the way up two flights of stairs then down a hall to his suite, the girls followed him inside, but Apus and Till took up guard positions. 

When compared to the rest of the castle Idri's rooms were almost homey. From what Eliot could see there were at least three rooms that stretched along the back of the castle A fire roared in a hearth covered by an iron screen of detailed fretwork. The warm colors glowed off Idri's dark skin. With a nod from Idri, Portia disappeared through a door at one end of the room. A massive four-poster bed with heavy curtains dominated the wall that shared with the hallway. 

“Unless I accompany you, this is where you will stay for the majority of this visit.”

“That's fair.” Eliot hadn't wanted to wander the palace alone anyway. Idri's hands were warm against both sides of his face. The man's fingers interlocked behind his neck as his thumbs rubbed his cheekbones. Eliot rested his hands against Idri's hips as they pressed against another. The kiss was searing. 

“I will have such fun with you, Eliot.” Eliot made a noise of agreement as he leaned closer to chase Idri's mouth.

“I want you to fuck, please Idri? I've been waiting for days.” He wanted Idri to send everyone away and leave the two of them alone. 

“Soon.” Idri used both hands to lift the crown off Eliot's head. He handled it with an unexpected reverence as he carried it towards a nearby sideboard where a pillow awaited. When Idri returned, he held a square flat box with an elaborate red and gold ribbon. “I have a last gift for you. Take off your clothes.” A pair of long plush couches bracketed either side of the fireplace, Idri sat on one of them and crossed one leg over the other. He draped his arm along the couch's back. The gift lay against his thigh as Eliot's gaze darted towards Brisca. Undressing while she watched felt a little scandalous. 

“You promised we would be alone.” Eliot pointed out; he shifted restlessly in hopes of settling the unease coiled in his muscles. 

“You'll get used to their presence. The four of will be your attendants both here and in Whitespire; you'll get used to them seeing you naked.” None of them will make an advance on you, none of them will hurt you, and none of them will speak about you behind our backs. They will not watch us, my love. I'll keep my word. Now take your clothes off and come here.” 

Eliot cast a final uneasy glance at Brisca, then reached for the scarf at his throat. The silk pulled free easily, Idri was smiling at him, Brisca seemed to be paying minimal attention, and Eliot felt emboldened. He tossed the scarf to Idri and his new husband brought it to his nose with an amused chuckle. The older man's fingers turned into a little circle, urging him to continue. A row of silver button lined the right side of the tawny-colored jacket he wore, undoing each one made Eliot regret suggesting them. He should have designed the whole outfit around how easy it would be to take off. Idri dropped his leg back to the floor and leaned forward as Eliot lay the jacket across the opposite couch. Without buttons the loose flowy shirt was easy to remove, then Eliot sat to undo his boots. His fingers paused at the catches of his pants as he took a moment to rub his thumbs along the inside of waistband. 

“I said I wanted you naked, Eliot. Stop being a tease.” Eliot swallowed and quickly released the three buttons of the fly. His pushed the pants down, then stepped out of them. “Underwear too.” Eliot shivered as he let the boxers fall. “You are exquisite.” Idri purred. He spread his knees, then pointed to the spot on the rug in front of him. “Now come here.” Eliot cut the last bit of distance between them and sank to his knees, the rug was thick and plush against his legs. Idri passed him the box. From the shape, Eliot might have guessed in advance what it held, but his mind stuttered to a stop at the sight of the leather collar that lay inside. The brown leather looked pliant, and the inside had been lined with dark red padding. A thick D-ring had been fixed to the front; while the back buckled. The thought that it might never come off if he put it on fanned the uneasy panic that had slowly been building since he'd learned of Idri's intention to bring him to Loria. 

“It's, I can't wear this back to Whitespire, Idri.” Eliot shifted on his knees and reached with his telekinesis to test the magic around him. The magical currents that responded to his inherent powers were there but felt thin. Then he remembered how he and Idri had talked at length about how magic was much scarcer in Loria, and about how Idri's people probably wouldn't notice much if it were gone. Loria's problem with magic wasn't just a lack of trained magicians; it was an overall lack of magic entirely – no wonder Ess had expressed so much interest in the Wellspring. Eliot suddenly realized how wholly and thoroughly he'd been trapped by allowing himself to be brought here. He wasn't powerless, but he was far from full strength. Unaware of his magical test Idri's face scrunched in confusion, then he slapped his thigh and laughed. Both hands reached and caught him, then Eliot was dragged into an air stealing kiss. 

“I would never degrade you in front of your people, Eliot. Loria's alliance with Fillory rests on the strength of your claim as king. I don't want to give them the impression that you're under my thumb. You'll only wear this in our private moments.” Relief swelled in Eliot's chest, and he nodded. Idri reached down for the collar and opened it. “May I?” Eliot had half a mind to say no, so he sat there in silence as he debated what he wanted. The magical bond had already been set between them, and he liked Idri, and refusing would set the tone for the rest of their marriage. Finally, he forced himself into a more upright position and tipped his chin, baring his throat. The padding was soft as it pressed against his trachea, then the whole band tightened as Idri threaded the strap and set the buckle. It sat snug around his neck when he swallowed. Idri's finger looped through the ring, then Eliot was hauled up into another kiss. 

“I could not have have asked for a more perfect husband. I know we'll please one another.” Idri let him drop back to sit on his feet again. His hand combed through Eliot's neatly brushed curls. “Portia should have the bath drawn. Brisca, you may take him back to her now. I'll return shortly.”

“Where are you going?” Eliot shot to his feet as Idri stood. His husband's hands were firm on his body as they traveled down his sides and over his ass. 

“I am a king, Eliot, as you are, and I've spent several days in Fillory. An hour or so to make sure all is right with my kingdom will pass more quickly than you think. The girls will bathe you, then Apus and Till will prepare you and when I return you'll be ready for me to claim. Be good for them. Obey them as you would me. Am I clear?” 

“Yes.” Eliot's heart raced in his chest, and he tucked a curl behind his ear in frustration as Idri stepped around him. The heavy chamber doors echoed as Idri pulled them closed behind him. The next minute or so passed in silence as Eliot curled and uncurled his fingers. The collar felt heavy, the ring on his finger felt too tight. 

“Your, Lordship?” Eliot silently cursed, he'd completely forgotten about Brisca. “You seem distressed.” 

“You think?” Eliot snapped at her. “I can't think of any reason that might be!” 

“You'll be safe here, your Lordship.” 

“Eliot.” If the four of them were going back with him to Whitespire, he needed to break them of the 'lordship, majesty, highness' bullshit early. “I'd prefer we be on a first name basis.” 

“Of course.” The woman smiled at him. “If you'll follow me.” To business, he liked that. She reminded him a little of Margo, and she'd made an effort to make eye contact with him instead of staring at his junk. He followed her into the bathroom without another word. Portia waited near a massive tub that was partially set into the floor. Brass pipes filled the basin from two points; steam lifted off the surface. Without magic to hold them in the dark ages, it seemed that Loria might be a step or two ahead of Fillory regarding industry. 

“Your Lordship.” 

“Just, Eliot, please.” He pleaded softly. 

“If you wish.” With no clothes to take off, there was nothing to do but step into the water. It steamed pleasantly, was fragrant, and rose to his chest. Eliot was suddenly overcome with the urge to sit there and cry. 

“Can the two of you leave for a few minutes?” The women shared a glance, then Brisca nodded, and they both bowed, then headed back into the bedroom. When they had gone Eliot crumpled. He dragged his legs to his chest and buried his face. The ring of his collar brushed skin, and suddenly he was sobbing. The stress that had been piling on his shoulders since his friends had left finally overwhelmed him. How had this happened? After Mike, he'd just wanted to die, and things had only gone further off the rails from there. Now he was married off to a man old enough to be his father, his friends might never come back, and how would he explain this if they did? His sobs gradually slowed, the water cooled, and he reflexively twisted his fingers to bring the temperature back up. Thankfully the magical currents weren't weak enough to resist such a simple spell, maybe they were, and he was just that miserable. 

With a sigh, he mopped his hands across his eyes. They came away smudged with the eyeliner he'd forgotten he was wearing, and he groaned. He must look like a hot mess. A washcloth was folded on a nearby stool, and he reached for it with his telekinesis, then wiped his face. There was a tentative knock. 

“Eliot?” At least he'd broken Brisca of the habit. 

“You can come back.” She and Portia returned, and Eliot was too exhausted to argue as they did what Idri had prepared them to do. They scrubbed him clean, hands going everywhere despite how he blushed, then washed and conditioned his hair, then they coaxed him out of the tub and onto a stool. His nails were next. Apparently, Idri had planned a whole beauty routine. He wasn't going to complain; he hadn't had a mani-pedi since before Mike. When Portia produced a pair of straight razors was when he almost tried to stop them, but the veiled threat of disobeying them made him more uncomfortable than having his chest and legs shaved. They left a little on his lower stomach in a neat little trail leading towards his groin, which they left alone because it was already trimmed. Brisca was drying his hair as Portia applied new eyeliner when there was a knock on the door. Eliot hoped for Idri, but Apus was the one who stepped inside. 

“Is his highness ready?” The unease that had leaked from him as the girls had pampered him rushed back in an ugly mass. 

“Ready for what?” Eliot grabbed the nearby towel and dropped it across his lap as Brisca rubbed lotion along the smooth skin of inner thigh. 

“Lord Idri has given us instructions for preparing you. If you'll follow me, your Lordship.” Eliot hooked the towel around his hips as he reluctantly followed the younger man. Till waited on one side of the bed, while Apus moved to the other. “Please sit, so you are comfortable, my Lord.” 

“You've got to be kidding me. Look, use my first name for fuck's sake, alright?” Eliot muttered. The coverlets and top sheets had been turned down, and his legs glided against the fitted silk sheet below him as he crawled towards the middle of the bed. The towel came loose, and he sighed in resignation when one of them snatched it. “Now what?” He grumbled. The bed was huge, with beams that crisscrossed the top and got lost in the darkness of the overhanging curtains. Till, the taller of the pair, reached for something above them. A braided cord with a pair of cuffs at the end dropped down in front of Eliot's face; similar cables were raised on either side of the bed for his ankles. His stomach flipped, and Eliot pedaled backward against the sheets in a mad scramble until his back hit the headboard. Till opened the bracelets, then reached for his wrist.

“Your lordship, please cooperate.” The thought of how quickly the group of them could hold him down if they wanted had him shivering in terror. 

“No!” Without thinking about it, his hands flew through the poppers of a force push. Till sailed across the room and rolled across the floor. The thought that he might have inadvertently killed him, and would have to kill the rest too made Eliot's heart race. Even if he managed it there was almost no way he'd make it out of the castle before someone found out and captured him, he would have almost certainly signed his death warrant, and then it would be over. The whole nightmare would be over. Eliot ducked his head and sniffed, his eyes squeezed shut as he dragged his knuckles against his nose. Thoughts of the last time he'd used battle magic without a bottle made the breath hitch in his throat. Brisca's hand touched his shoulder, and he flinched. 

“Till is alright, Eliot. We'll take our leave for the evening, and I'll send Lord Idri to you as soon as he is available.” As she herded the others towards the door Eliot guessed that she must be the senior of the group. The fire continued to cast the room in warm colors as Eliot yanked the sheets up to his waist and nested himself in the mess of pillows. The sheets were soft against his forehead when he rested his head against his knees. Idri would probably be furious. The door opened after he'd sat there for an indecipherable amount of time. 

“Eliot.” Hearing Idri's voice made him curl up a little tighter. “I spoke with Brisca. Are you alright?” Eliot lifted his head and wiped his nose. Idri had stripped down to a simple top and pants

“I panicked when they tried to tie me down. I like you, Idri. I want to be with you; I wouldn't have put up a fight.” The mattress was so broad that he only felt the bed dip a little when Idri sat. 

“I told them to do it because I thought you would enjoy it, not because I doubted your willingness.” The sincerity made Eliot feel like a bit of an ass, he probably would have, if he hadn't lost it. 

“I like being bossed around in bed, Idri. I...might, I would, just.. not the first night! I want to be able to fucking touch the man I married. Tying me down is something we have to build toward, and it's not something I'm ever going to let someone do when you aren't in the room! You might have been gone for hours.”

“I had not considered that, and I would enjoy your touch.” Idri moved towards the middle of the bed, then grasped his ankles and pulled. Eliot found himself flat on his back with Idri between his thighs. “So I've overstepped, and you're angry with me. Does this count as our first quarrel?” Despite the ire he'd managed to work up in the short moments since Idri had joined him, and the fear that fueled it, a chuff of honest if somewhat exhausted laughter escaped Eliot's throat. 

“You can make it up to me by fucking me.” Eliot offered. He looped his arms up around the man's neck and pulled Idri down into an eager kiss. The friction of Idri's shirt against the freshly shaved skin made him moan. Their mouths slid against one another. “I'd like it if you were naked.” Eliot encouraged. Idri chuckled and ducked his head; his lips found a spot below the collar and Eliot bared his throat for the man to mark.

“You're perfect.” Idri praised. Eliot had to resist the urge to preen as he ran his hands down Idri's sides to the joint of shirt and pants. The shirt pulled free, and he pushed it up; the loose neck and sleeves slid until he'd gotten it free of Idri's body. His hands explored plains of smooth dark skin as he mentally mapped each scar and blemish. 

“You'll have to tell me how you've earned some of these.” Eliot murmured as his fingers trailed over what he assumed was a sword slash. 

“I'm an accomplished swordsman, renowned for my success as a duelist.” Idri bragged. His digits caught the collar ring, and he used it to guide Eliot's head to a better angle. Eliot gasped as the fingers of Idri's other hand circled, then pinched a nipple. The nub pebbled, then Idri was providing equal attention to the other. Between his legs, Eliot cock stiffened. 

“I want your hand on me, Idri. Please.” Eliot hoped he hadn't ruined the new eyeliner too severely as he batted his eyelashes at Idri for added effect. Idri's delighted chuckle coaxed an anemic grin onto Eliot's face; his husband's fingers were calloused, and Eliot bucked up into the slide of the weathered skin. He'd been denied the enjoyment of another man's hand for weeks, and he reveled in it now with a wanton moan of pleasure as he pumped his hips into Idri's fist. Idri seemed enamored with him. Good. 

“Oh, Idri!” His grip was different from Mike's, very different from Quentin's, and Eliot cut off that train of thought as abruptly as possible. He wasn't going to compare the lovers who had hurt him to the one he had now. Idri's thumb rubbing against the slippery tip of his penis had Eliot mewling with pleasure, at this rate he would come before Idri had even done anything to his ass. “You have no idea how much I missed this.” They were going to have to build a portal between Whitespire and the Cock Barrens so Idri could visit often. 

“Did you take male lovers often on Earth?” It wasn't exactly the kind of pillow talk Eliot would have preferred. Their short courtship had given them some time to talk, but Eliot had stayed mum on his past relationships.

“Enough to know what I like and don't, and that I'm a damn good lay.” 

“Did you love any of them?” Eliot inhaled a sharp breath through his nose. He knew that Idri had dearly loved his wife.

“It's a little late to ask me that question.” Eliot bucked his hips to try to get Idri back on track. “I'm married to you; it doesn't matter if I was in love with someone else. Idri's hand caressed his length in a slow pull, which quickened with Eliot's pleased moan. A knot had formed in his throat when he'd briefly thought of Quentin, not that Q wanted him. “Fuck!” He gasped softly as Idri's hand continued to slide and twist. The man's thumb and pointer finger vigorously rubbed the head of his dick, and it was enough to push Eliot past his limit. Hot sticky seed poured over his belly and Idri's hand. He legs and thighs trembled and twitched as Idri continued to play with him and the collar was tight against his throat as he inhaled lungfuls of air. 

“Prepare yourself with the spell you've used for the toy I gave you,” Idri told him as he sat up to take off his pants. He'd foregone underwear, and his length had hardened enough to leave a wet spot on his trousers. A small jar of the same lube Idri had used on the toy had been hidden under the pillows. Eliot screwed his eyes shut and tipped his head back. His jaw clenched. They had passed an indisputable point of no return the moment he'd stood with Idri under a wedding arch; Eliot suddenly felt detached from the reality of it. The syllables of the spell and the sharp motions of his hands didn't register, but the sudden stretch and wetness between his thighs pulled a cry from him as his legs trembled and his hips flexed against an invisible intrusion. Idri's arms hooked under his knees; then his body was filled. It burned, but the spell kept him from tearing. Eliot wiggled a little in discomfort as Idri's hips sat seated against him. He twisted his legs free and hooked them around Idri's hips. 

“Are you alright?” Eliot more read the words from the shapes Idri's lips formed than heard them. He nodded 

The world came roaring back when Idri started to move. It wasn't slow, or particularly romantic, which fit the nature of everything between them. Eliot liked that it was carnal, that it was fast, it felt like Idri was claiming him, which was exactly what he'd promised to do. He kept his legs wrapped around Idri while his hands roamed over Idri's back and shoulders. The short trim on his nails kept them from digging too deep into Idri's flesh. 

“Idri, Idri, shit... Oh god.” The man's name spilled from his lips over and over as Idri's hands seized his hips to keep him still. The pace had only increased as his body had adjusted to Idri's length and girth and Idri's breath was hot against his shoulder. 

“Shush my flower, my darling. I'm close. Ember and Umber have blessed me by giving you to me.” The endearments continued as Idri's hips continued to roll in and out of him in short fast thrusts. Eliot locked his arms around Idri's torso and buried his face. His cock was hard against his abs, and he used his telekinesis to pleasure himself as he clung to Idri with both hands. His second orgasm spilled between their bellies as Idri came with a final pounding thrust. The seed filled him as Idri's organ remained inside him. They collapsed in a panting tangle; Eliot clung to him as Idri planted small kisses along his shoulder and dug for something under the pillow. Eliot caught a glimpse of a small glass bulb with the most narrow of necks before Idri lowered a toy between his legs. Idri's penis pulled out, and the toy pushed in. The bulb trapped Idri's semen inside him when his anus rapidly closed around the neck. “I could not be luckier than to be the one to claim you. You should feel honored to be mine.” 

“Thank you, Idri.” Without thinking about it Eliot cast a charm to clean them up a little. Idri chuckled at his show of vanity, then Eliot found himself rolled onto his side. Idri sat long enough to gather the blankets then spooned behind him. The man's arms were warm around him as he was clutched to Idri's chest and Eliot fought a losing battle to keep his eyes open so he could enjoy it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor El, he broke on me, and I had the hardest time getting him back on track. 
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> Comments and kudos are welcome! If you have something you would like to see let me know! I'm open to hearing just about any suggestion!


	5. A Sensitive Discussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Idri ruminates on his relationship with his new spouse and asks a piercing question that might enhance their experiences together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter, new tags, enjoy the new addition.
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> NSFW chapter

Idri had found himself enamored with Eliot from the moment he had stepped through the portal into Whitespire's courtyard when this cheeky, sassy young man had held his ground in the face of a full Lorian entourage. The ideal outcome of the endeavor would have been to find Ess a worthwhile marriage, but as his gaze raked over the young man sleeping beside him, Idri couldn't see a reason to complain. The gods of Fillory had smiled upon him. His hand joined his eyes as they mapped the contours of the beauty spooned to his side. Eliot was perfection, young, eager, and to Idri's delight sexually proficient. Idri's fingers danced down Eliot's flat stomach, then curled around his length to stroke it. 

“Oh, Q. Just like that.” The sleepy incoherent mumble stilled Idri's hand. He remembered how bitterly Eliot had rejected his inquiry about previous lovers and debated if he should hold a grudge over the unconscious slip of the tongue. The only fair answer was no, at least not for now, when the memory of former lovers was still so fresh. Idri wondered if the 'Q' in question was the second king of Fillory. If that were the case, then his jealousy would only make for trouble. Idri wanted his new husband's rule to be a successful one so that Loria would benefit; it wouldn't be helpful to sow dissent within Eliot's closest circle of friends. 

“My darling?” He purred. Idri circled his fingers against the plug between Eliot's cheeks, then shifted them inside to ease the bulb free; he wiped it clean and lay it on the nearby table. Eliot softly moaned as he replaced the toy with two of his fingers and started to move his hand again. 

“Fuck, Idri!” That was better. To hear his name on Eliot's lips made Idri smile as he pressed his lips to Eliot's throat. Eliot gasped and squirmed as Idri bent and scissored his fingers. His body rocked between the digits and Idri's fist. He whined in displeasure as Idri released his cock and dragged his hand up Eliot's belly. For the briefest moment, Idri considered what it might be like to feel the flat plane rounded with a child, but there was Ess' legacy to consider, and he was quite sure that Eliot's unfortunate wife wanted a babe of her own first. No one would be eager to see an heir added to the mix under such circumstances. Besides, such a thing would probably require a god's blessing and magic. Once things were calmer, and the tension had settled it might be worth suggesting.

“Do you enjoy this?” His fingers found Eliot's nipple and Idri pinched and played with the sensitive nub as Eliot whined and wiggled. He slipped his fingers from Eliot's body and slicked his length, then rolled his husband onto his hands and knees; his fixation with Eliot's nipples, first one, then the other, continued as he thrust into him. From the way Eliot gasped and whined he seemed to appreciate the attention. Once Idri was fully seated against Eliot's hips he balanced on his knees to give both buds equal attention at the same time. 

“Oh god, Idri.”

“So you do like it.” A pleased hum reached his ears, Idri teased them mercilessly for another moment until Eliot bucked against his hips. Fascination satisfied, for now, Idri steadied himself on one hand, wrapped the other arm around Eliot's waist, and started rolling his hips with slow, shallow thrusts. Eliot bent his head forward to rest against his arm, then reached down to fondle himself. A ragged cry escaped him when Idri's mouth found the joint of his neck and shoulder and started to suck. The taste of the sweat-damp skin encouraged him to drag his tongue across Eliot's flesh in search of more. 

“Please, Idri, let me... I need to...” 

“Not yet.” Idri gripped Eliot's hips for leverage, then drove his erection in and out of the younger man's body in measured strokes. His pace got more frantic as he neared his climax until his hips stuttered and he filled Eliot with a final thrust. 

“Now you have my permission.” He purred. His hand found one nipple as he idly pressed kisses from Eliot's tailbone to the middle of his back. Eliot shuddered against him, then collapsed into the wet spot below them as he folded into a twitching pile. 

“At least sex with you is amazing,” Eliot mumbled as Idri covered him and cradled him close. 

“I'm pleased with you as well,” Idri assured him as his fingers carded through Eliot's sweat-damp curls. The attention garnered a content hum. “I'll call for breakfast, and draw us a bath,” Idri told him as he rolled away to get up; he didn't bother with clothes as he reached for a pull cord that hung near the bed. It would take the kitchen staff a little while to prepare the meal he'd suggested to them, so he walked into the bathroom. Warm water drummed into the massive tub as he added scented oils. “Eliot? Join me, please.” He called as he stepped into the water. A moment later the naked young man slipped into the bathroom. Idri drank in the sight of him as he sauntered towards the tub. Water raced down Idri's skin in rivulets as he stood to grab the ring of Eliot's collar once he was close enough. “You're stunning.” He murmured before claiming Eliot's mouth. 

“You're quite a sight yourself,” Eliot responded as he stepped down into the tub. Idri let go of the ring so he could sit with Eliot between his legs; one of Eliot's arms wrapped around his waist, while his cheek rested against his chest. They sat in comfortable silence for long moments as the water lapped around them. Eventually, Idri reached for a cloth, coated it with soap, and used it to clean down Eliot's chest. The soft, pleased moan he got in response as the cloth rubbed against a pebbled nipple made him chuckle. His free hand followed the fabric across Eliot's torso. 

“When my wife arrived from Earth I discovered that she'd had her nipples pierced. There is a jeweler from your world; I would like to have him pierce yours as well.” Eliot tensed, and shuddered in his hold; Idri wasn't sure if it was from pleasure or fear, or a combination of the two. “You can't deny you would enjoy it.” He soothed as he dragged his nail back and forth against one of the buds.

“But they would take months to heal.” Eliot murmured. 

“The healing could be done immediately. Magic might be weaker here, but you've used it enough already to know it's present.” 

“What about the risk of infection?” Idri raked a wet hand through Eliot's curls. 

“I trust that the tools will be satisfactory. I wouldn't suggest something that would put your safety at risk. You could use a spell to sterilize the tools if it would make you more comfortable.” Eliot subtly squirmed as Idri continued the slow tease of the sensitive flesh below his fingers. Idri draped the cloth across the wall of the tub, and it suctioned to the side with a wet slap; they could hear the faint drip as water impacted the floor tiles. Idri's hold on Eliot shifted, so his younger lover's back was pressed to his chest and both his hands were free to tease across Eliot's chest. Eliot swallowed a moan as his body shivered.

“If...” Eliot paused. 

“If...?” Idri prompted. He dropped his arms down around Eliot's waist and held him close. 

“That's the only piercing I'll agree to.” The thought hadn't occurred to Idri that jewelry might go anywhere else. Earrings were far too feminine for his tastes, he had always found nasal piercings unattractive, and navel jewelry was only appropriate for dancers. “It's a fetish people take overboard on Earth,” Eliot explained.

“I wouldn't suggest anything extreme.” Idri tilted his head and pressed his lips below Eliot's collar. “I hadn't considered that they would go anywhere else,” He admitted. Some of the tension leaked from Eliot's back as Idri rained kisses along his shoulder. He seemed to have run out of objections. “I'll have a palace courier summon the jeweler later this afternoon.” Idri murmured, he was pleased that Eliot hadn't immediately rejected the suggestion. His fingers found the cloth again, and he pushed it below the water. Eliot groaned and tipped his head back against his shoulder as he stroked the cloth between his thighs to clean him. “Your body is so responsive; I'm sure you'll love it.” Eliot hummed in what Idri hoped was agreement. A cup hung from one of the bath taps, and Idri reached for it, filled it, then tugged Eliot's head backward as he spilled the water over his curls. A few more cups had the locks wet enough to be soaked through, and Idri raked them back as he wrung the moisture from them. “Someone should have brought breakfast by now. We'll eat, then I'll need to spend a few hours tending to my kingdom.”

“I figured.” Idri shifted to slide from under Eliot's weight, then stepped out. He toweled himself dry, shouldered on a waiting robe, then beckoned Eliot out of the water as he held the towel open for him. His cloth covered hands roamed over the pliant body in front of him until Eliot's skin was dry, then he tossed the towel across the rack His servants had been efficient during their bath. A tray waited on the table between the couches, the fire had been refreshed, and the sheets had been exchanged for clean ones. Idri lifted the tray, then set the legs, so they rested on the cushions. The meal had been prepared into individual bites, and he beckoned to the spot of rug. 

“On your knees, right there.” He ordered. Eliot hesitated before reluctantly dropping to the floor. Idri started with something sweet, a handful of juicy mountain berries the color of plums, then added in squares of butter pastry, and either small bites of crisped salt meat or plump sausage. He let Eliot drink on his own. If Eliot didn't enjoy being finger fed, he said nothing, and Idri found himself immensely enjoying the flicks of Eliot's tongue as it brushed his fingers. He split the portions evenly, then offered his hand for Eliot to lick clean. “You may go back to bed if you like.” Idri gestured towards the room on the opposite wall from the bathroom. “My library is through there. You are welcome to anything on the shelves. I'd suggest taking the opportunity to learn some of the histories between our kingdoms. The more you know yourself, the less you'll rely on your advisers.”

“I'll consider it.” Eliot lifted himself off the floor, then tossed himself down onto the bed on his back. Watching him as he lay naked and sprawled across the sheets tested Idri's will. The urge to crawl on top of him was tempting, but Idri ignored him and got dressed. “I thought for sure that would work.” Eliot lamented. He'd propped himself on his elbows to watch as Idri dressed, an amused smile graced his face. 

“I was tempted,” Idri told him as he walked towards a box that sat on one of the bedside tables. It was about eighteen inches long, and a couple of feet high. When Idri pulled on the handle secured on the top a set of trays rose from the encasement. The bulb he'd used the night before got dropped in with the rest of the toys, and he chose a small leather harness shaped like an 'I.' The straps were narrow, and the top end was shorter than the bottom. “Spread your legs.” He watched an apprehensive shiver ripple through Eliot's body. “If you do as I ask I'll let you wear shorts for the afternoon.” Eliot's legs fell open with a miserable whine at the promise of a reward. Securing the cock-ring harness around his genitals only took a moment or two, then Idri found the bag Brisca had packed and tossed Eliot a pair of boxers. After Eliot had yanked them up his hips, Idri caught the collar ring and tugged his husband into a kiss. “Apus or Till will be close if you need anything. “I'll bring the jeweler later this afternoon, my darling,” Eliot responded with a silent nod, and Idri let him settle into bed before taking his leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist the run in the chapter discussion! Did you enjoy Idri's perspective? I think I'll stick with him the next chapter as well.

**Author's Note:**

> You want more of this! I know you do! Hound me until I finish this! You have my permission!


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